The Nasty Burger
by sapphireswimming
Summary: The only thing that might be able to salvage this day is a good burger before he hits the sack. That's all Dean wants. And is it really so much to ask?


**So glad I didn't write this one with an oc when I first got the idea forever ago but waited until I got into Supernatural. Because it's beyond perfect. :'3**

**Just the Winchesters this time.**

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**The Nasty Burger**

November 26, 2013

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There were only a few things in the world that could make Dean Winchester hand over the keys of his beloved impala to Sam. One of them was having his right leg in a thigh-to-ankle brace that left him unable to press the pedals after having been viciously thrown into the corner of a marble mausoleum by an especially ticked of ghost a couple days before. Sammy had offered the compromise that Dean could leave the hospital if he promised to keep the bandages in place for at least three days. Dean agreed without realizing that his brother was planning to head out to their next (and extremely urgent, apparently) hunt before those three days were up, leaving no one to drive but Sam.

So he groused the entire way with arms folded and hawk eyes on the speedometer, shifting his outstretched leg in the small confines of the passenger's seat and sloughing off any and all attempts Sam made to get him to move to the more roomy and comfortable back seat. No way was he going to completely abandon his baby in a time of crisis.

At least he was still able to listen to his personal collection of music. Sam had decided that his driving was hard enough to handle without invoking Dean's own instated rule about what plays in the impala (driver chooses the music and passenger shuts his cake hole), something for which Dean showed his utter relief and thankfulness by not saying a word and blasting Metallica for the next three hours.

It was late by the time they pulled into their destination, a small city called Amity Park. The billboard they passed on the way in proclaimed that it was "a nice place to live," but from what Sam had heard, the brothers were willing to bet that it wasn't quite the case. The details were a bit fuzzy, since neither one of them could quite believe what Sam's research had randomly pulled up. Something about a mass haunting. Ghosts everywhere. Shooting laser beams out of their hands. And freaking _flying_ around the town! While everyone who lived there went about their normal everyday business. Yeah, definitely weird enough to warrant a visit from the Winchesters.

Sam pulled in at the first motel they found, a pretty decent one, actually, considering the dumps they normally frequented. Dean piled on the duffel bags and went to unpack in their room. Thankfully Sam was able to talk the owner into letting them have room number fourteen instead of the one right next door… not that they were superstitious about it or anything, but really, why tempt fate in a city that's supposed to be haunted by way too many ghosts already?

Sam offered to run out quickly to bring back some food for them. Dean readily agreed. Anything right now would be good. Food would make the day better. Food was the one thing he could always count on to never let him down. His music and his food. Always there for him, even when the hunts were ridiculous and he wasn't able to drive his car because of stupid ghosts and stupid doctors and stupidly agreeing to his lawyer brother's ideas without reading the stupid fine print.

While the younger Winchester was gone, Dean thought about maintaining their arsenal, sharpening knives, dismantling and thoroughly cleaning the firearms. But Sammy had driven off with the cleaning oil still in the trunk and it wasn't like he hadn't already given everything a thorough going over for the past two nights because there was nothing for him to do then either.

Turning on the TV, he soon discovered that all of the decent channels were half fuzzy and he didn't really care to listen to the weather report until his brother returned. Next he tried glancing through Sam's research so far, but all of it was so scattered, so hectic, so unbelievable even for them, that he gave it up after about ten minutes. It wouldn't help either of them to get bogged down in details that couldn't possibly be accurate. And there was no way to tell which of the crazy blog posts were worth reading and might possibly contain a kernel of truth until they had done some scouting of the town and its residents themselves. Which he couldn't do tonight, without Sam, and in a straitjacketed leg.

So that was about the only good thing he had to muse on as he waited, with a leg propped up on a couple cardboard pillows, for Sam to return. At least the food would be good. Sam would be able to find a nice diner and bring him back a perfect juicy burger. With extra onions now that they were done driving.

At the sound of a key in the door a couple minutes of rapt contemplation of his approaching dinner later, Dean leapt out of bed as well as he could, doing his odd little thumping shuffle to meet Sam halfway.

His brother handed him a white paper bag with a red logo he didn't pay any attention to until he had made it back to the bed and begun to unwrap his prize. Then, the words in red were the only things he could see and he looked up at Sam, a devastated, betrayed look on his face before he even took his first bite.

"Sammy…" he choked out in a voice that only half-worked. "What is this?"

At least his brother had the shame to look away as he answered, "Apparently, it's supposed to be really good." His eyes flickered up to meet Dean's for a moment as he said in all earnestness, "Look, man, I stopped and asked like four different people for food recommendations and they all sent me to this place." He held out his hands in a 'so what can you do' sort of motion.

Dean stared at him aghast, turned down to the burger in his hands, looked back up at his brother who started squirming without his needing to utter a single word.

"Hey, it's 'one letter away from tasty,' right?" Sam falteringly recited what the cashier had told him at the checkout counter with fading hope that it would do anything to change his brother's mind.

Dean blinked at him for a moment and then held up his food, still in its red and white paper, and shook it at his brother, trying hard to fit into words everything that he was feeling at the moment.

"Dude…" he finally got out. "Not going to eat it. It's… a… nasty… burger."

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**And then Dean would totally cave in, try it, and fall in love.**

**Not 100 percent sure on details, but apparently, "nasty is only one letter away from tasty" is canonically the Nasty Burger's slogan after someone grafittied the sign to the Tasty Burger and nobody ever changed it.**

**Also, I'm basically living in the theatre this week for Nutcracker tech. If I don't have time to do so later, I'd like to hope that you all have a lovely Thanksgiving this year. I know that I'm thankful for all of you guys and what we've been able to do here. :3**


End file.
